Golden Cat
by Stealth Dragon
Summary: Set on Seefra. Orlund discovers a strange creature in his tunnels. With Harpers help, he not only must raise the creature but protect it as well.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Andromeda and its characters are not mine. The cat creature is mine since I based it off of my cat Cleo.

Note: I dedicate this story to the memory of my Cleo (the little punk ran off and vanished.) I hope she ended up somewhere good.

**Golden Cat**

Set on Seefra. A strange creature is found in Orlund's tunnels. Now he and Harper must not only raise the little beast but protect it as well. And I don't care what other people thought about Orlund, I liked him.

Ch. 1

Orlund was in a fine state of mind, his spirits higher than they ever had been in his entire life. As he wandered the quiet, shadowed tunnels that were his to protect, his mind flitted back happily to recent events. Not only had he been given honors by a princess and a Paradine High Guard captain, he had also been given the privilege of visiting a High Guard ship. To top it all off, the princess Trance still visited him from time to time.

It was the visits that ascended his happiness, and he always looked forward to them with a fast-beating heart. He found honor in guarding the secrets of the Vedrans, but it was a lonely job. He had never acknowledged his solitude until Trance came along, and after she had left to return to the ship, Orlund had felt loneliness settle on him like a boulder. He had, for the first time in his life, realized how lonely he was. It had made the tunnels more empty, silent, and at times even frightening though he knew them so well.

He never admitted to this out loud, not to Trance or Dillon. It would be very un-High Guard of him to do so. He tried to ignore the feelings, lose himself in a myriad of other thoughts, but every time Trance or one of the other Andromeda crewmembers stopped by they would be reawakened with a vengeance.

Today he had the feeling easily stifled by thinking back to all the excitement he had experienced since meeting the princess and the captain. He moved quickly through his tunnels, checking his traps and fixing those that needed fixing, which were few. The engineer Harper had helped him better his traps, modifying them so that few repairs were needed, and to allow Dillon and his crew easier access to the tunnels so they could visit.

They had not come to visit recently though, Orlund suddenly thought as he stood on a rock to look over another alarm. He tried to push the thought back, but it burrowed through and broke free. The silence of the tunnels became so thick he thought he could hear the far off cries of left over cave dwellers. It made the hair on the back of his neck rise and cold skitter down his spine. He snatched up his Vedran weapon and turned so abruptly that he slipped and fell from the rock onto his shoulder. Ignoring the pain, he scrambled to his feet, pointing the weapon this way and that, his heart sending his blood thundering through his ears.

He listened into the silence but heard nothing. He lowered his gun, but his heart refused to slow. Every time he thought he had dealt with the last cave dweller another would rear its pasty head out of the darkness like a ghost (or vampire as Harper once called them, though Orlund did not know what a vampire was.)

Orlund took a deep breath and let it out slowly, allowing it to take some of the tension with him. He then continued on his rounds. Perhaps, he thought suddenly, since very little has happened in these caves for some time, I could go to the surface. He hated leaving the caves and the crystals unguarded. The only time he ever left was to gather supplies; water and food and the like. But to leave just to be leaving, without a purpose, made his insides seem to squirm.

Orlund sighed. He wished the princess were here. He wanted someone to talk to.

Suddenly, a cry shattered the palpable silence. It was so loud, so abrupt that it made Orlund whirl around, catching his foot and falling to his back. He scrambled back to his feet and pulled out his alarm indicator. An alarm had been triggered in the number seven tunnel, so Orlund broke into a run to where the intruder lurked.

He slowed as he neared the tunnel, straining his ears into the quiet, but his pounding heart and rushing blood was making it difficult to determine smaller sounds. His pressed his stiffened back to the rough wall, then inched his way to the bend in the tunnel turning right. When he was parallel to it he carefully peered around the corner and saw the body of a man dressed in rags lying sprawled on the floor. Rocks were scattered everywhere in indication of an explosion.

Orlund moved out from around his hiding place toward the body. Keeping his gun trained, he nudged the man with his foot. Half the man's face was bloody and burnt, and his eyes stared emptily at the ceiling.

Orlund released a breath of relief and lowered his weapon. Now he had something else new to occupy him - getting rid of another intruder - but it was something he never enjoyed.

He moved his weapon to his back and knelt to grab the man's limp wrists. As soon as he did there came a strange squeak and the man's tattered coat bulged and writhed. Orlund yelped in surprise, jumping back and bringing his weapon around. He stood stiff but steady, watching the clothes move and something emerge from the collar.

It was small, whatever it was, about the size of Orlund's hand. Among the Vedran artifacts he had collected, there was among them archives containing the images of various creatures both alive and long extinct. The creature slipping free of the tanglement of cloth was unknown to Orlund, yet vaguely familiar. It looked like the earth-creature known as a cat, yet with small glittering amber scales instead of fur, a long reptilian tail with tiny spikes on the end, and three-toed paws with long black claws that curved wickedly. The ears of the creature were larger than those of the cats in the archives, but its fangs were like those of the bigger cats long extinct known as saber-tooth tigers.

The creature's claws clacked on the stone floor and it emitted tiny squeaks as it bounded about. It turned its large golden eyes up at Orlund, who kept his weapon pointed at the beast. The beast sat back on its haunches, whipping its tail about and regarding Orlund curiously.

Suddenly, it bounded forward so fast that Orlund could not aim. Orlund started back, encountering resistance when his back met the wall. The creature sniffed at Orlund's feet, then twined about his legs. It rolled onto the floor, pawing at his boots in much the same way the baby cats did in the archives.

Orlund's fear gradually abated as he watched the cat-thing roll and squeak in innocent oblivion. He lowered his gun, then pushed it back behind him to crouch over the creature. The creature stopped playing, looked up at Orlund, and blinked. Orlund realized then that the cat-thing's eyes were not only gold but also luminescent. It rolled onto its feet, then reared back on its haunches to place its front claws on Orlund's knee.

Orlund was wholly fascinated. He had never seen such a creature, not on Seefra or in any of the Vedran archives. It was beautiful with its amber and gold scales and bright eyes. The claws and spikes gave it a vicious edge, but they were simple to overlook. Orlund reached out, almost involuntarily it seemed, and picked up the creature. Its scales were smooth as glass; it's small body warm, and its curved claws not even sharp.

As he held the cat-thing in his cupped hands, it circled then curled up into a small golden ball. Orlund stared at it mesmerized, then tore his gaze away to look at the body of the man. He could not fathom what it was the man had been up to. Perhaps he had been trying to hide, or perhaps he had been trying to hide the creature. Either way, he had failed, and the creature had come to Orlund. As far as Orlund was concerned, it belonged to him now.

The little cat-thing stirred, then stretched and looked up at Orlund. It let out another squeak and stood up on its back legs to place its claws on his chest.

" What are you?" he asked the cat-thing. It squeaked again, and Orlund smiled.

" You're probably hungry, aren't you," he said. Then forgetting all about the body, he made his way back up the cave to see what he had in his food supplies the beast might like.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

" Crap!" Harper snapped when another wire sparked, singing his fingers. He snatched his hand back and stuck the offended finger into his mouth to cool the burn. He then proceeded to beat the mess of wire and metal that was supposed to be a water purifier with his welder.

Doyle, leaning with both arms on the counter, smirked at him.

" Harper, it really is a wonder what you're capable of… As well as incapable of."

Harper shot Doyle a scathing look as he shook the pain from his hand. " You just wait. Soon as I get this baby running you'll be saying the first part of what you just said without adding the last part."

Doyle just smirked, as did Rhade who was sitting next to her, nursing another drink.

" Good come-back," he said. " You'll really show us."

Harper moved his scathing look off of Doyle onto Rhade. He pointed the butt-end of his welder at the bigger man. " Can it, Rhade. You'll be begging me for a drink… Begging."

Rhade lifted his glass. " Got a drink right here, didn't even have to beg."

Harper glowered and turned back to his misshapen device. " Come on, baby, work for daddy," he murmured under his breath. It seemed ever since they had ended up on this rock that nothing was working right for Harper. Doyle would have been the exception, but she had an annoying way of turning against him verbally when the shots were down and his pride was at stake. He longed for the old days when he could slap something together on a whim and have it work, but he just didn't have the resources. All in all, it was coming down to him not being able to do anything right, and it unnerved him. Being a genius was basically all he ever had going for him in his life.

Harper tried welding another wire, only to have it spark again. He jerked back with a small cry, then threw the welder at the machine, creating more sparks.

" Maybe you should just give up, Harper," Rhade said, " before you burn the whole place down."

Harper clenched his fists. He would have thrown something at Rhade had the Neitchien not had the ability to break Harper's neck with one hand. Instead, he just gave him another withering look that had about as much effectiveness as an ant trying to bring down a bear.

When the doors of the bar swung open, Harper looked past Rhade to see what new low-life had decided to grace them all with his presence.

" Uh-oh," he said upon recognizing the wiry figure of Orlund. " Looks like the Dillon fan club just arrived.

Both Rhade and Doyle turned, with Rhade turning immediately back in a show of indifference. Doyle smiled a greeting.

" Hello Orlund," she said. " Dillon isn't here if you're looking for him."

Orlund looked around uneasily as though lost or confused. Both his hands were holding his jacket tightly closed and he was hunched forward slightly. Harper knew from experience why Orlund was doing this. He had something hidden under his jacket, something he was afraid others would see.

Orlund shook his head. " I – I'm not here for Dillon. Actually, I came to see you Harper."

Harper eyed Orlund suspiciously. Yeah? What for?"

Orlund looked around again, then hurried over to the bar, leaning forward slightly.

" Is there a private place we can go and speak?" he asked. " Please?"

Harper narrowed his eyes. " You up to something Orlund?" It sounded strange saying that out loud. Orlund had already proven himself incapable of doing anything unseemly. He was more straight and narrow than even Dillon.

Orlund's brow lined in confusion. " No. I just need some help with something."

Harper stared at Orlund for a moment. He seemed worried, agitated even, and Harper did not know whether to feel bad for the guy or worried for himself.

" Orlund," Harper said in a low, warning tone, " if this 'help' you need ends up getting the both of us shot at, I'm using you as a shield, got it?"

Orlund, still worried and confused, nodded.

" Good, follow me."

Harper headed toward the back of the bar with Orlund hurrying after. He took the other man through a door into an empty alley full of garbage and boxes of bottles. Harper then turned with hands on hips to face Orlund.

" Okay Orlund, what's this 'help' thing you need and can you make it worth my while? 'Cause if you can't, and I don't like it, it ain't gonna happen."

Orlund nodded. " I understand. But it's nothing, really. I just need some food."

Harper jerked his head back in surprise. " Food. You goin' hungry pal?"

Orlund looked around again, and when he next spoke had his voice lowered.

" Well, no, I've just run out. And – and this is why."

He opened his jacket and pulled out a small, scaled cat-like creature with amber and gold scales. It was the size of both of Orlund's hands, and blinked up at Harper Curiously when Orlund held it out to him.

Harper scurried back in alarm. " What the crap is that!"

Orlund pulled the creature back against his chest. " Don't worry, it's harmless. I've had it with me for three days now, but it eats quite a lot and is growing fast."

Harper kept backing away until he encountered a wall. " Yeah? So what is it you need from me exactly? Just food? Yeah, I can handle that. I think we got some on Andromeda…"

Orlund shook his head. " No, not just food. I would like to know more about it, what it is, where it came from. You have ways. You know how to use technology, the kind that might help me learn. I need help to know how to take care of it."

The creature climbed up Orlund's arm to pace about his shoulders, sniffing the air and squeaking excitedly. Had it not been for the three curved claws and the spiked tail it might have seemed cute. Harper allowed himself to move away from the wall but not to relax.

" Look, Orlund, I'm an engineer not a zoologist. Maybe you should talk to Dillon about this…"

The creature stopped pacing, bunching back on its haunches, then leapt far to land lightly on Harper's shoulders. Startled, Harper cringed, stumbling back against the wall.

" Get it off, get it off!" he cried. The creature paced his shoulders, rubbing its head against the back of Harper's head.

" It won't harm you," Orlund assured. " It's just very curious."

Harper stayed perfectly still, panting and shivering with fear. The cat-thing kept rubbing its head against Harper's, its scales smooth and warm. After a moment of this, Harper finally began to relax, and the creature's pacing slowed. It was as though the creature had sensed Harper's fear, and rather than be fearful itself had wanted to prove there was nothing to be afraid of.

" Hey," Harper said with a nervous laugh, " you're right."

Orlund nodded excitedly. " You see? It came to me in the tunnels three days ago after someone was killed trying to come in. I think they were trying to hide it."

Harper stiffened at this. " Orlund, that's not a good thing. If they were trying to hide it that means they probably stole it."

" Or didn't want it stolen," Orlund countered. " But it's mine now, and I can keep it safe in the tunnels."

Harper scratched the back of his head uncertainly, and the cat-thing licked his hand. " You sure about this Orlund? Someone might be looking for this thing if this person who… uh… died was trying to hide it."

" I'm certain," Orlund said with great conviction. He reminded Harper of a kid with a new pet, swearing he would take care of it as long as he could keep it. He couldn't blame Orlund though. It must have been lonely in those tunnels.

It recalled to Harper a pet he had once himself back on earth when he was eight; a rat of all things. He had caught it intending to eat it, but it had only been a baby, and ended up being able to do tricks. Harper had taken very good care of it up until some uber used it as target practice. Twirp had been its name, Harper remembered. He had cried for three days after Twirp had died, after doing all he could to keep the scrawny thing alive.

" Fine," Harper said. " I'll help you figure out what this thing is. Just don't take it out of those tunnels. If this thing's a fast grower it won't take long for someone to notice it."

Orlund nodded vigorously. " Of course."

As though aware that some agreement had been met, the creature leaped from Harper's shoulders back to Orlund. Orlund gathered it to him and hid it back under his jacket.

" Thank you Harper. I'll try to find some way to repay you."

Harper waved his hand dismissivly. " Don't worry about it. Just don't bring it around here any more. I get enough dirt bags nosin' around looking for stuff I don't know crap about. And what do they do? Threaten me until they're satisfied I don't know or Rhade gets tired of them whining and throws 'em out. Okay, listen, I'll get you some food, then we'll… go from there. Come on."


	2. Ch 2

Note: I aplogize for the mispelled names in the previous chapter. I caught them after the fact. I will try to fix them at a later time. Please R&R all the same. Please, please, please...

Dylan is suspicious. The creature continues to amaze Orlund.

Ch. 2

The day was uncomfortably hot, and it wasn't helping Dylan's mood. The knowledge of Trance's sun making its way into the system to cause some havoc had settled into his thoughts like poison. The fact that they had yet to figure a way to stop it made it all the more potent. Not only that but Trance seemed to have vanished again. Outwardly she appeared fine, but Dylan didn't need to see it to know that inside she was struggling. Something was going on with her and he had yet to figure it out, but he was going to, one way or another.

Dylan was hoping to find trance at Harper's bar, since that was normally her only other haunt. However, she did, on occasion, go to visit Orlund. Dylan hoped that wasn't the case now. Orlund was a good man, both honorable and brave. On the outside the slender looking young man may not have seemed a threat but he had a dangerous streak he kept well hidden. The only problem was that he tended to take things too seriously. He jumped into dangerous situations without thinking them through. He was naïve, and right now Dylan did not have the patience needed to deal with him (especially long speeches about what an honor it was having worked with Dylan to find the Methus crystals and having Dylan here, and so on and so on.)

Dylan came in sight of the bar, only to stop abruptly when two familiar figures hurried from the shade of an alley, crossing the dusty ground. One was Harper, and the other, ironically enough, was Orlund. Orlund was hunched up holding his jacket tightly closed, obviously hiding something, and Harper was looking about in his usual wary and nervous way that always made Dylan uneasy in turn.

Dylan's shoulders sagged and he felt suddenly very tired. It was bad enough when he spotted Harper sneaking about, but having Orlund with him only made it worse. Harper was very skilled at getting everyone into trouble, but Orlund was probably the worst to get involved in anything Harper was up to. It would only end in him getting either very hurt or very killed.

" Harper, I will never understand what goes through that messed-up head of yours," Dylan said to himself. He altered route to follow Harper and Orlund, making certain to keep a good distance between himself and the two. However, as he thought about it, he came to a decision. Rather than discovering what the two were up to, he chose to simply put an end to it right then and there if he could. So he increased his pace and closed the distance.

" Harper, Orlund?" he said when he was five steps from them. Both stopped suddenly, Orlund turning quickly around but Harper turning more slowly, tensing as he usually did when caught.

" Dylan," Orlund said, straightening as though Dylan were his actual captain.

" Hey boss," Harper said sheepishly with a casual wave. Dylan folded his arms, looking from one to the other, but finally settling on Harper.

" Okay Harper, we can make this simple or very difficult. What are you up to?"

Harper quickly adopted innocence. " Up to? Boss, what could possibly make you think I'm up to something?"

Dylan smiled, shaking his head. " Harper, Harper, Harper. I would think you would know by now that when I ask you what you're up to, it usually means you are - in fact - up to something. I have yet to ever ask you that without it ever being true. So I will ask again, what are you up to?"  
Harper held up his hands defensively. " Hey, boss, for once I'm telling the truth. I'm really not up to anything. I'm just helping our buddy Orlund out that's all," he clasped Orlund on the shoulder. " No big deal there. He just needed to restock some supplies…"

Dylan turned to Orlund, who was probably even more predictable than Harper.

" Orlund, what are you hiding?"

Orlund's brown eyes widened. " Hiding?"

" Under your clothes. You're hiding something."

Orlund swallowed. He was caught in a flux; either hide what he had or disappoint a High Guard officer and lose his respect. Dylan hated doing this to him, but it was probably for his own good.

Finally, Orlund succumbed, stepping forward with a hangdog expression. He opened his jacket slightly, enough for Dylan to see the golden head with the big ears and slit-pupil eyes. The creature looked up at Dylan and squeaked excitedly. Orlund quickly closed his jacket.

" Okay then," Dylan said, a little surprised but hiding it well. " What the heck was that?"

Harper shrugged. " We don't know boss. Orlund found it in the tunnels with some dead guy. He wants to keep it and asked if I could help out."

" It's very harmless," Orlund added suddenly. " I've had it for three days now and it has done nothing dangerous."

" Then why are you hiding it?" Dylan asked next.

Harper pointed at Orlund. " Hey, it's his pet. I just don't want any trouble if it came from someone else. That's all."

" You said you found it on a dead man…?"

" He was dead when I found him," Orlund replied. " From one of my traps. I don't know why he was there, but he shouldn't have been. The creature is mine by right."

Dylan sighed, putting his hand to his face and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

" Actually, I don't think Seefra has any laws concerning finders keepers Orlund."

Orlund tightened his hold on the jacket, and for a moment a shadow of fear passed over his face. " But it came to me."

Apprehension and a cacophony of warnings stirred in Dylan. There was something not right about any of this. He had never seen such a creature as the one Orlund now held, and he had seen quite a number of beings in his unusual lifetime. But there was no doing anything about it without a concrete reason. Besides, Orlund probably wouldn't hand the creature over without a fight, and though Dylan could win in that fight he'd rather not put up with it in the first place. And, besides, Orlund could probably use the company.

" Fine," he finally replied, hesitating slightly in continuing uncertainty. " Just… keep it hidden."

Orlund visibly relaxed, and Harper perked.

" Really boss? Thanks."

Dylan held up his hand to stop Harper from saying anything further. " But if anything goes wrong, you're both in a lot more trouble than you can handle, got it?"

Both nodded, Orlund happily and Harper uneasily.

Dylan shook his head, wanting to say more, to back up his warning, but could think of nothing else. So he turned and left the two to their devices, already regretting that he had.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

It was difficult going carrying both two packs full of food and the creature. By the time Orlund returned to his tunnels his back was aching from the weight and his chest and shoulders stung from the scratches the creature caused when it tried to get to the food.

He made his way to the small, hidden chamber where he normally slept and deposited the sacks of food on the highest shelf of rock he had. He then set the creature down on the pile of blankets, cloth, and old pillows he used for a bed. The creature looked up at him expectantly, rising onto its back legs and pawing the air.

Orlund took some dried meat from one of the packs and sat across from the creature. It continued to paw the air until he tossed it the meat, which it caught and downed in one swallow.

" I don't know if this will do you any good," Orlund said, tossing the creature another strip. " I don't even no if it is real or something synthetic. I've been told that some can make a vegetable seem more like meat."

When Orlund tossed a larger strip, the creature caught it in its paws, dropping to the floor to tear it apart and swallow it. Amazed, Orlund did it again. Again the creature caught the strip in its front paws, only to toss it upward in the air and leap to catch it.

Orlund laughed in wonder. He tossed more of the dried meat, and each of the creature's catches was different from the last. At one point it caught the meat with its tail, at another leaped up in a back flip to snatch it faster than Orlund could blink.

" That was amazing," Orlund breathed. The creature sat and made a series of guttural, clicking purrs that Orlund could have sworn was laughter.

" I can see you're intelligent," Orlund said. The cat-thing tilted its head to one side curiously.

" But what should I call you? I can't just keep calling you creature."

He had a few names in mind, but he could not tell whether the creature was male or female. He would have to wait to hear what Harper would say once the blood sample he had taken was analyzed. It was odd, but when Harper had nicked the creature's toe to get the blood, it had hardly reacted at all except for a slight squeak.

The creature tilted its head the other way, then opened its mouth to stretch its jaws in a yawn, revealing its sharp, serrated teeth. It then circled, following up with some pawing at the blankets, until it finally curled up and went to sleep.

Orlund was mystified. He had traveled to all the Seefra worlds, collected many wonderful Vedran artifacts, but none of them could compare to this creature. It was, by far, his most ultimate find, though it had come to him. It was like a gift. He remembered gifts. His mother had made a scarf for him once that had been a gift. His father had given him a weapon to help guard the tunnels, and had called it a gift. Gifts had always come to him unawares, either as a reward, out of need, or simply to make him happy. They were also rare.

This creature could be useful. It could help him guard the tunnels and chase away the cave dwellers, depending on how large it became of course. But even if it grew no bigger than it was, he liked its presence. The tunnels would be less empty with another living being dwelling in them.

Orlund knew he needed to start his rounds, but he found that he could not leave. He could only stare at the creature. A part of him feared that if he left, when he returned he would find it gone, as though it had only been a dream. So he remained where he was, and the emptiness of the caves became a distant memory to him.


End file.
